On that one rainy Night
by shadowraven45662
Summary: "You really thought, as you sat there in the rain, that this was the end for you. Until you heard that soft and oh so kind voice calling out to you." Victorian!England X Reader fic fluffier than a feather pillow but still enjoyable!
1. Chapter 1

**Victorian England X Reader Fic, a gift for all my correspondents to "Victorian England's Postal Service" and to anyone else, like me, who is a massive fan of Iggy the Gentleman ^^" this is my second Victorian England X Reader fic so if you like this please feel free to check out the other one as well! Anyways, hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! Oh and please review!**

**NB: Maisy is just the maid, she has no real significance. **

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This was then end; you knew deep down that you weren't going to last much longer in this storm and secretly, you didn't want this to last much longer. You just wanted all this pain to be over and done with. The rain poured down on you, it was as if the heavens themselves were trying to add to your misery, and the cold night air got under your ragged dress and chilled you to the bone. You had lost everything you ever had. Everything you had ever worked for was gone in the blink of an eye. Your job at the factory; the boss throwing you out for not giving into his disgusting suggestions, but you were glad to be away from that place. The racket from the machines had given you headaches and you'd almost lost a finger to the spinning machine the other morning. Your home, the grotty terrace house that came with the job at the wool mill had gone, given to some other starving worker who'd become your replacement. You had no family to go back to, no friends who could take you in, all was lost.

"Miss?"

A voice! Soft, and inquiring and oh so kind. You slowly opened one tired eye, your vision blurred by your exhaustion and the storm and looked towards the source od the sound.

"Miss, you shall catch your death of cold if you continue to lie here" It spoke again.

It was a man, you could tell simply by the depth, but this voice was not the hard gravelly tone of most men you heard in the street, nor was it the slimy accent of your former boss. You strained your vision to get a better look at this man; tall and well dressed, an upper class gentleman you presumed. But you couldn't see any details yet, you were too tired and too cold to focus properly. The last thing you felt was something being thrown over you, and the sensation of being moved. Then nothing but the inky darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

"She looks terrible Mr Kirkland, Why on earth did you take such a wretch in off the streets?" A voice you didn't recognise drifted into your ears. It was a woman's voice and it sounded concerned.

"Because if I did not then no doubt she would have perished from the cold and the rain." The man's voice replied.

Slowly feeling began to return to your limbs. Soft, warm and cosy blankets. You were in a bed of some kind. But a bed unlike anything you had ever slept in before. The mattress was so squishy you could feel yourself sinking into it, the pillows were fluffy and feathery, the comforter pulled right up to your chin, keeping you warm and snug. With great effort you opened your eyes, the brightness hurting them a little, but nevertheless you persevered.

"Look!" the woman's voice exclaimed "She's awake!"

You could see clearly where you were now; a huge ornate bedroom that lead out to a balcony. You were lying in an enormous four-poster bed with red and white sheets and comforters, next to you a dresser with a silver mirror and facing you were the people whose voices you had been hearing.

"Excellent" The man said "Maisy go and fetch some hot tea, she'll be thirsty now she's awake."

You recognised him as the man who had found you in the streets, although now you could see him clearly. He was wearing the attire of a well-to-do gentleman: waistcoat and bow tie and everything. His blonde hair seemed, in comparison to his spotless clothing, to be a disorganised mess but that didn't matter to you after all you'd seen far worse. He had a kind face, a polite smile and a dusting of red on his cheeks as he looked at you, his Emerald eyes meeting your [E/C] eyes. And, you noticed to your slight amusement, comically large eyebrows.

"Good Morning Miss" He said with a slight bow "I trust you are feeling a little better now"

"G'mornin" You mumbled, feeling yourself blush at your horribly common dialect "Thank ye for the hospi'ali'y Sir, Im feelin' much be'er now"

The man nodded and smiled "good to hear. May I enquire as to your name?"

You mumbled it, embarrassed.

He frowned slightly "Pardon? I didn't quite hear you."

"[Y/N],Sir" you said a little louder, trying to be as polite as you could. You'd never been in the presence of such a gentleman before.

"[Y/N]?" He replied, making sure he had heard you correctly, "That's a very pretty name."

Now you can feel yourself flushing an even deeper shade of red. But thankfully the kind woman, Maisy, has returned with two cups of tea and a china teapot. Carefully the blonde man took the tray and placed it upon the table, handing you a cup of stunningly decorated porcelain. You were afraid to hold it; you'd never had something so delicate in your hands before. The tea was hot and sweet and your dry throat welcomed the taste of the liquid.

"Now then" He began "My name is Arthur Kirkland. May I enquire as to why I should find such a pretty maiden lying in the mud of a dismal London back alley?"

"Oh" you said looking down at your cup in shame "I-I l-lost my job S-Sir, I 'ad nowhere t'go Sir. "

He looked concerned, you could just see his face fall a little from above the rim of your teacup.

"Now why on earth would they get rid of you?"

"M-My b-boss t-told me t'get out 'cuz I wouldn't do 'im no favours" you reply softly.

This makes him scowl "Where were you working exactly" He growled, taking you by surprise.

You told him and you heard him muttering under his breath; you didn't understand a lot of what he was saying and your mother had always taught you that eavesdropping was extremely bad manners so you let him have his chunter. "Damn Francis doesn't know where to keep his hands" you heard him mutter.

"Then this settles it" He said, addressing you suddenly. "From this day forward you are in my employ, you start first thing tomorrow helping Maisy round the house. Room and board is included and you will be paid, naturally." It sounded so decisive you didn't dare tell him anything otherwise.

* * *

Three months later and you had fully settled into your new life in Mr Kirkland's house. True you worked hard, but for the money you earned it put the job you'd had at the mill seem insignificant. Maisy was the closest thing you'd had to a mother in a long time and while she could be strict, in particular with your etiquette- or lack of- and your colloquial dialect, she was wonderfully kind and baked the best crumpets you'd ever tasted. Mr Kirkland was an amiable man, hardworking and often put-upon you noticed from working in his household. He was a member of some business in government but you didn't understand what exactly this job was. You just had the sneaking suspicion that you might just be developing some feelings for this gentleman.

One morning, as you had done every morning for the last three months, you were bringing in his morning tea and scones when you noticed there was something different about him. It was a crisp morning, the cold London air blowing in through the open window made the room seem airy and spacious. Mr Kirkland was sitting at his desk, quill in hand and some important document next to it you guess.

"Good Morning Sir" You say in your best formal tone, "I've brought your breakfast in."

He turned to look at you, his green eyes seemed sad you realised and you felt a blush rising. He stood up and took the tray from you, his hands brushing your own.

"Good morning [Y/N]" He replies softly "May I say you look simply radiant this morning? Is that a new dress you're wearing?"

You smile and nod; it had been your treat and had cost a good few weeks' wages to afford it, but you loved it and felt every penny was worth it. You stepped back and gave a little twirl, letting the dress fly outward almost revealing your ankles and legs-you knew if Maisy had been in the room she'd have had a fit- but you didn't mind.

"Lovely!" He exclaimed "but I'm sure that you'd love a wardrobe of those kind of dresses would you not?"

"I wouldn't be able to afford them Sir" You replied sheepishly.

"Oh?" he said, a little gimmer appearing in his emerald eyes "Perhaps now you can't, but if I were to do this perhaps you would?"

His lips met yours, and you felt yourself swept away in your first kiss. It was the most incredible feeling in the world; his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him, your arms around him. When you eventually broke apart, after what felt like an eternity, he smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face and cupped your cheek with his hand.

"I've wanted to do that ever since I found you that day" He whispered softly in your ear " I just needed to be sure you felt the same way."

You smiled and looked him right in the eyes "I've never loved anyone as much as I realise I've come to love you" you replied. Then he moved to kiss you again, and the rest of the world just seemed to melt away.

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**I've tried to use as much formal english as i can, like they would have spoken at the time. But there was a serious difference between how the working class and how the upper class spoke so it was quite hard ^^ anyways hope you enjoyed this little story!**

**ShadowRaven45662**


	2. Chapter 2

**This was supposed to be a one shot but silly me forgot to set it to complete. So i ended up with loads of people story alerting this. So as a way of saying thank you to ALL my reviewers, favouriters, alerters etc this is now a two shot! I know there are some historical inaccuracies: technically Al and Mattie would be older by this time but they just seemed to fit so well! Also Mama and Papa need to be pronounced in a very victorian accent sort of like this : "ma-maa" and "pa-paa" as thats what children called their parent sin upper class families. **

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The tiny patter of little footsteps echoed around the upstairs landing. Up and down they ran, two little boys in snowy white chemises dashing around beneath your feet. Golden hair flying out wildly as they play. Squeals of delight as they uncover new places to explore and discover new games to enjoy. It drives Maisy up the wall, their wild antics making her unable to complete her chores sometimes. But neither she nor you would have it any other way.

"Mama when will papa get home?" a soft little voice askes and you feel a gentle tug at your skirt. You look down at the little blue-eyed boy below you and smile. Picking him up and gently brushing his little cowlick out of his eyes, it sticks up no matter what Maisy tries to do with it, you hold him close to you.

"When he gets back Alfred dear" you reply softly "He's working very hard you know, his job is very important for the country."

"and for Queen Victoria!" Alfred chirps "Papa said he's met the Queen!"

Just then you can hear your second child calling out, his voice is softer and more gentle, you can barely hear him. "Alfred? Where'd you go Alfred?"

You bend down and call out gently "he's here with me Matthew poppet, we're on the landing!"

A flash of gold and snow white runs towards you and the second of your children is in your arms as well. Matthew's hair is longer and a little curlier, with one long curl that – like Alfred's- Maisy can't seem to be able to control. His eyes on the other hand are a soft violet colour in comparison to the sapphire blue of Alfred.

"Mama!" he cries holding on to your dress tightly, nuzzling you.

"Come on little ones" you say "let's go downstairs for now, we can await Papa's return in the drawing room yes?"

Carefully you carry them down the stairs, a difficult task given that you also have to lift the skirt of your dress so as not to trip and fall, and enter the drawing room. It is a soft cream colour, the same colour it has been since the day you first set foot in this house. The only change it has seen is that now there is an ornate wooden chest, like something off of an elaborate pirate galleon, where Alfred and Matthew's many toys are kept. Secretly, you had never told anyone but Arthur of this, you were jealous of the toys they had to play with. You yourself had never had such things when you were their age, in fact when you had entered the grand old age of five, being one of the few working class infants of England who did so, you'd been packed off to your first job cleaning the mechanisms of the weaving machines in a dank factory in east London.

You sit yourself upon one of the feathered armchairs, letting Alfred and Matthew run loose and play with their toys. Alfred has his little tin soldiers lined up ready for a battle, Matthew's little fingers reach for the little white teddy bear he loves so dearly. It had a name, Kumajiro, and Matthew insisted that he was a special polar bear from the wilderness of Canada – a land he had heard about from one of his story books.

There is the sound of the door being opened, and you can hear the kettle whistling on the stove as Maisy prepares tea, she calls out from the scullery "Good Afternoon Mr Kirkland!"

Arthur smiles and tips his top hat politely, before removing it and his long black coat and placing them upon the stand. He strides confidently into the room and sweeps you into his arms, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"Hello love" he says, holding you close.

"Hello dear" you answer back.

"Papa!" the collective squeals of Alfred and Matthew cry as the two dash over to greet their father. Arthur smiles and pulls the two into a hug laughing.

"Hello boys, I hope you haven't been bothering your mother or Maisy today" he says, giving them both a kiss on the forehead each.

"Those two will be the death of me Mr Kirkland!" Maisy calls from the kitchen, laughing.

Alfred and Matthew giggle and you find yourself unable to hold yourself back from laughing along with them. Soon the whole family are laughing together.

You smiled to yourself, thinking how wonderful things were for you now. And how much your life had changed since that one rainy night. You were the happiest wife and mother in the world, and you had everything you could have wished for. A home, love and warmth, and not to mention all those dresses Arthur had promised you when he first kissed you.

For the rest of your life, you were happy.

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**HOPE YOU ENJOYED ^^ PLEASE REVIEW!**


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